Maid Service (7 page)

“I had knickers,” Tiffany protested. “I lost them.”

“Oh and I can just imagine how!” Vicky answered. “Come on then, out of your clothes.”

Peter had given up trying to intervene, feeling painfully excited but somewhat helpless as Tiffany began to strip, removing first her blouse and skirt, then her bra, to leave her in nothing but neat black shoes and long white school socks. Vicky also watched, the expression on her face growing ever more smug as Tiffany shed her clothes, and speaking only when the kneeling girl was fully naked.

“Get behind me,” Vicky ordered Peter. “I don't want you seeing anything you shouldn't. Okay, Tiffs, open wide.”

Peter obeyed automatically, with no more than a twinge of regret for being denied a glimpse of Vicky's sex. The view was quite pretty anyway, with Vicky's two full cheeks tight in her bottle green gym knickers as she pushed her belly out into Tiffany's face. He swallowed as he ducked down to get a still better view, scarcely able to believe that the two girls could do anything so utterly filthy. If Tiffany felt the same it was difficult to tell, as her eyes were now closed and her pretty mouth opened in meek acceptance of what was about to happen to her. Vicky was no less reticent, stepping out of her gym knickers to expose herself and, in doing so, revealing to Peter the globes of two firm buttocks and a hint of her soft crevice.

For a moment the tableau held in utter silence, broken by a sigh from Vicky and the hiss of her stream as she let go, full in Tiffany's face. Peter could only stare, frozen in amazement as he watched the stream of rich white-gold flood over his girlfriend's chin, into her mouth, and trickle from the sides to wet her neck and breasts, dripping from her erect nipples and running down her belly. Then she'd swallowed, deliberately taking a mouthful of Vicky's effluent down into her belly, a sight at once so compelling and so obscene that his efforts to hold back his own needs evaporated on the instant.

Tugging his cock free, he began to masturbate with furious energy, heedless of what Vicky would think, heedless to the risk of being caught or anything else but the sight of Tiffany, nude and dripping, as she struggled to drink down the hot stream still gushing into her mouth. She couldn't cope, Vicky's liquid now running in twin steams from either side of her mouth despite her best efforts to swallow it down. Quite a bit had splashed into her face, and her breasts were dripping and filthy. A moment more and her hand had gone between her legs, clutching at the wet bulge of her cunt in helpless, shame-filled ecstasy.

Peter realized that the two girls had probably set the whole incident up, but it no longer mattered. His cock felt as if it was about to burst, even as Tiffany swallowed one last mouthful before pushing her face forward to deliberately soil herself, Vicky's stream splashing in her face as she masturbated with ever greater urgency, screaming out her orgasm an instant before burying her face between her friend's thighs and starting to lick. Vicky let out a little grunt of surprise and pleasure, but then turned a nervous glance back towards Peter, her mouth opening in immediate exclamation.

“Why, you little degenerate!”

There was laughter in her words and Peter felt a sudden stab of shame, but he was too close to orgasm to stop. Tiffany saw too, staring with wide, dizzy eyes, her fingers still busy between her legs, her body now rocked forward to push her bottom out as if expecting rear entry. Peter thought about taking her, with his cock jammed into her—no doubt still slippery—back hole, to plug her in front of her friend. But Vicky was turning, now emboldened by her actions, her voice rich with laughter and lust as she spoke.

“Go on, now you. Open your mouth.”

Peter tried to stop himself but couldn't. He sank to his knees, his mouth opening wide even as the cum began to squirt from his cock, onto the ground and down his fingers. Vicky let go, squeezing out what was left in her bladder, full into his mouth, and to his horror he found himself drinking it down as shudder after ecstatic shudder ran through his body. Vicky was laughing as he swallowed down her fluid, but when he tried to lick at her sex she pulled back, sending a last trickle down his front as she wagged a finger at him.

“Oh no you don't, you dirty little bastard. That's not for you. That's for a real man, someday. Now turn your back while Tiffs gives me what I need.”

He ignored her, slumping down with piddle trickling from his lips as his orgasm slowly faded. She didn't bother to repeat her instruction, instead turning once more to Tiffany, taking her firmly by the hair and pulling her face-first into wet, wanting cunt. Tiffany responded eagerly, playing with her wet tits as she used her tongue on her friend. With that, the last doubt that the girls had decided upon this in advance evaporated from Peter's mind, except perhaps for making him accept Vicky's stream into his mouth. Yet it was impossible to resent even that humiliating detail. Despite all the shame that filled his head, as he watched his girlfriend lick another young woman to ecstasy, he began to understand something about the way Tiffany felt when she surrendered herself to him.

“The punishment is going ahead,” Peter stated, “and you can watch, for a price.”

“How much?” Ben Thompson demanded.

“Two quid,” Peter answered, provoking immediate protests from his audience.

They had gathered in the senior common room of their house, Peter and the same six young men who had watched Tiffany spanked in the barn. To set the meeting up he'd had to wait until the junior boys were safely in bed, and with the remaining seniors at various clubs or upstairs in their bedsits Peter felt reasonably safe, allowing him to make his pitch without worrying about being disturbed.

As coincidence would have it, a handful of the St. Monica's girls had been caught smoking. With their plan now confirmed, Vicky had not hesitated to use the smoking offence as an excuse for the spanking. There would still be a monetary prize, but at least the fraudulent punishment now appeared to have some legitimacy.

“Two quid is cheap,” he said. “Think about it, six beautiful girls bare to the air, front and back, and not just posing the way they do in magazines, but getting spanked. Think how they'll kick and wriggle about.”

“Two pounds,” Stephen Richards said, peeling two green notes from an impressively thick wad. “Come on, lads, it's got to be worth it, and think of the risks Finch is taking.”

“We're taking them too,” Gabriel Howard pointed out, “and not all of us can spare two quid.”

“It's a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Peter put in, “and there's no risk, not the way I've set it up. Still, if you haven't got the guts …”

“I've got the guts and I've got the dough,” Hunter Rackman broke in. “But if Emerald Feldkirch ain't in the line-up, I want my money back.”

“She'll be there,” Peter promised, accepting his money. “The Princess has been let off, unfortunately, but Emerald was the one who bought the cigarettes, so she's sure to get it, probably harder than the others. There's a girl called Katie too, a real little cracker. Believe me, I can guarantee a good show.”

“And you're sure it's going to happen in the pavilion?” Clive Sumner demanded. “It seems an odd place for a punishment.”

“Weird,” Ben Thompson agreed. “Hannah says they usually get it right then and there, or at assembly if it's something really bad.”

“Because,” Peter replied, now sure of his ground after talking the scenario through with Tiffany and Vicky, “this is an informal punishment. At Monica's, the Head Girl is allowed to give spankings, but in this case she's given all the girls who got caught a choice of getting it from her or being reported to the penguins. They chose to get it from her, and she's going to do them in the pavilion so the nuns don't find out. She likes to spank too, so Tiffs tells me, which is why I'm sure she'll do them bare, and hard.”

“Crazy, man,” Gabriel said, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“Girls are often crueler than boys,” Peter replied, thinking that in Vicky's case that was definitely true. “So come on, who's in?”

“I'll come,” Daniel Stewart stated in his usual, languid manner. “But I'll need to get to the Post Office before I can pay. I'd like to bring Dolamore-Brown as well, if that's alright? He can pay.”

“Your word is good enough for me,” Peter assured him, “but I don't know about Dolamore-Brown. He's a school prefect, and anyway, I want to keep this in the Grove.”

“I'm a school prefect,” Daniel pointed out. “He's safe.”

Peter took a moment to reflect, weighing the extra two pounds against the added risk of involving somebody not in Grove House, but he had learned to trust Daniel's judgment and quickly nodded.

“Alright, he's in.”

“How about Paxton?” Ben Thompson suggested. “He owes me ten and six-pence, and I can make the rest up.”

“Paxton's alright, I suppose,” Peter agreed. “But that's it, or we won't all be able to see. So what, Thompson, Sumner? Are you in or out?”

Ben Thompson immediately turned to Stephen Richards, who handed over two more pound notes before his friend could even begin to speak.

“Pay it back before the end of term, that's all,” Stephen told him.

“You're a sport, Richards.”

“I can do it, I suppose,” Clive Sumner admitted.

“Of course you can,” Peter responded. “After all, think how you'd feel if you missed out. So that's eight of us?”

“Nine,” a voice from the door spoke up. “I'm in.”

“You weren't invited, Gardiner,” Peter pointed out, addressing the newcomer.

“Get lost, Gardiner,” Gabriel added as Hunter got to his feet with the clear intention of taking more direct action against the unpopular boy.

“I heard!” Gardiner squeaked desperately as the tall American took him firmly by the collar and the seat of his trousers. “I heard it all!”

“Oh no you didn't,” Ben stated. “Now out!”

“Yes, I did!” Gardiner went on desperately as he was frog-marched back towards the door. “You're going to watch a load of girls from St. Monica's getting whacked on the bare. I've got to see that. Come on, don't be beastly. I've got as much right to watch as you!”

“No you haven't,” Peter pointed out. “It's strictly by invitation only, and it costs two quid.”

“Hold on,” Daniel said, raising a hand as Hunter prepared to eject Gardiner back into the corridor. “He's a sneak. We're going to have to let him come.”

“I'm not a sneak. You're the sneak, Stewart!” Gardiner exclaimed.

“Stewart's right,” Clive agreed. “We can't trust him.”

“Why should you trust me if you're not going to let me come?” Gardiner demanded.

“Oh alright,” Peter sighed. “That's two pounds, please, and you're to stay well out of sight.”

“I'm not paying,” Gardiner answered. “I don't have two pounds.”

“Why don't we just throw the little sneak in the river?” Hunter Rackman suggested.

“Because he's a sneak,” Daniel pointed out.

“You just wait, Gardiner,” Hunter threatened, but he'd let go and Gardiner merely stuck out his tongue in response.

Peter drew in his breath, far from happy with the sudden turn of events and desperately trying to think of a way to get rid of Gardiner. Yet there seemed to be no way out. In all the years he'd know the other young man, not only at Broadfields but at the preparatory school they'd shared, Gardiner had repeatedly used the threat of going to the authorities to get what he wanted. It was no idle threat either, as Peter had discovered to his cost years before.

“Nine of us it is then,” he sighed, “and that's it, nobody else.”

“I thought I said nobody else?” Peter demanded, eyeing the group of young men in front of him with rising horror.

There were at least twenty, including every single one of the seniors from Grove House and several with bad reputations, including the odious Oliver Tinknell, Gardiner's friend and a bully as well as a sneak. Yet there was nothing to be done, with the group spanking organized for that evening and the money from those he'd agreed to in his pocket. To send anybody away was courting disaster. In any case, he had no way of preventing them from following him to St. Monica's. He made to speak, intent on appealing to their common sense, but the expressions of hopeful lechery on their faces were far from encouraging.

“What are we waiting for?” Porky Jupp demanded. “Where's all the fanny you promised?”

Peter let the question hang before choosing his tone carefully. While Porky was no sneak, he had some very unpleasant ways of making his displeasure known to anybody who annoyed him. Others began to echo Porky's sentiments, and even some of Peter's friends were beginning to look doubtful, so at last he raised his hands and spoke.

“Be cool, boys. These things can't be rushed. First off, this is not a free show. I need your money, two quid each.”

There was instant rebellion, some declaring the price too high, others refusing to pay at all, but those who'd already put their money down finally came to his rescue, forcing the remainder to pay up or at least give their word of honor to do so later. Peter was pretty sure they wouldn't but, with over thirty pounds in his pocket, the money was the least of his worries.

“Next up,” he declared, “we have to get to St. Monica's, so follow me and be quiet.”

He set off, keeping a good pace in the hope of losing at least some of his eager followers while frantically trying to work out how to allow twenty excited boys to watch the spanking without giving themselves away. The idea had been to peer in through the windows at the back but, while nine quiet, well-disciplined voyeurs might get away with it, the pack that followed him along the river bank and into the woods was anything but quiet and had all the discipline of a drunken seaside outing.

The spanking was due to start at six and he'd called for people to gather behind the science labs immediately after tea. That would leave enough time for the group to make their way to St. Monica's and get into the concealment of the woods before Vicky led her little troop of girls out from the convent. As it was, he had reached the edge of the playing fields with half-an-hour to spare and, by five minutes to the hour, eighteen of his troop had joined him. The others seemed to have gotten lost or given up, including several of those who would have represented the greatest liabilities, and it was with rising confidence that he peered out from the foliage.

“I told you so,” he remarked to Daniel Stewart beside him.

“I never doubted you,” Daniel answered, licking his lips in expectation.

It was a long way to the convent wall, but there was no mistaking the quality of the group of girls who'd just come out of the rear gate. All were in uniform of red tartan skirts and crisp white summer blouses, long socks and smart black shoes. Vicky was conspicuous, taller than the rest, Tiffany also, with her dark bobbed hair, bringing Peter an unexpected pang of jealousy and irritation at the thought of some of the people who would shortly be feasting their eyes on his girlfriend's naked rear.

“They look pretty cheerful, for girls who're about to get whacked,” Daniel remarked.

“Spankings are pretty regular at St Monica's,” Peter assured him with an attempt at bluff confidence. “I imagine they get used to it. Either that or, like Tiffs, they get to like it. Remember, getting it this way means they don't get it from the nuns.”

“The nuns do them in front of assembly, sometimes,” Ben Thompson sighed, his voice full of longing.

“Just as long as there's plenty of fanny on show, right?” Porky Jupp remarked.

“All you could possibly want,” Peter assured him. “Now get back, or they'll see us.”

They retreated a little way into the wood, Daniel and Hunter having to pull Porky Jupp back by force to stop him giving himself away as the girls approached. Peter's gaze remained fixed, and he found himself growing ever more excited as the girls drew near, no less delighted then his friends by the thought of so much nubile flesh put unwittingly on display. Even Porky went quiet, his mouth slightly open as he took in the display of bare thighs and jutting impudent breasts beneath white cotton blouses. From such a beautiful procession, it was utterly impossible to decide which of the girls was the most desirable.

Tiffany herself was a strong contender for the most beautiful, and for all their intimacy the thought of seeing her stripped by Vicky helped to set his heart racing. Charlotte came next in line, as bouncy and full of life as ever, as if thoroughly looking forward to what was supposed to be a punishment, somewhat to Peter's disappointment. Alice's pretty, elfin beauty and nervous manner inspired mixed emotions: sympathy and pity for the thought of such a frail, sensitive waif having to submit to the pain and indignity of a bare bottom spanking; combined with a powerful lust for exactly the same reason. Christine was more delicate still. But even if he hadn't known her reputation, the cool arrogance with which she carried herself made him yearn to see her panties pulled from her pert little cheeks before being smacked up to a glowing pink. Emerald came next, as golden and beautiful as ever, but with her face set in a haughty scowl at the thought of what was coming to her. Last was Katie, the smallest of all and the most nervous, with her expression alternating between a sulky, rebellious pout and wide-eyed fear. Katie's neat ponytail and studious little glasses making her seem an even more incongruous recipient.

Peter waited until the last of the girls had disappeared behind the pavilion before signaling his companions forward. They came in a scrum, quiet enough but each eager for a good position at the windows, and when Peter peered inside he half expected to find the girls staring at him and his companions in shock and outrage. But his timing had been perfect and Vicky had only just reached the steps. With a last, urgent signal for the others to be quiet, he made himself as comfortable as possible and settled down to watch, praying that the girls would be too caught up with the thought of their approaching spankings to pay much attention to what was going on outside.

Vicky entered the changing area, to stand with her arms folded beneath her breasts. Tiffany followed, with a quick glance to the window, puzzlement, then shock as she made out the silhouettes of the boys and realized how many there were, but Vicky was already barking out orders.

“Line up, faces to the wall, and quickly, or you'll get extra.”

The girls obeyed, some looking genuinely sorry for themselves, others playful, and in Charlotte's case openly flirtatious, sticking here tongue out at Vicky and giving her bottom a deliberate wiggle as she got into position. Peter realized that Tiffany must have told her friend what was really going on. Still, if the boys thought there was anything odd about Charlotte's attitude to being punished, none gave any hint of it, all now silent and alert.